Thorns and Roses
by ThisEuphoricLife
Summary: Now grown up, Neal Nolan wishes for two things in life: magic and adventure. When he and his best friend Lara Gold get trapped in the Enchanted Forest, and encounter backstabbing alliances, plucky new villains, and a rather threatening secret, Neal gets exactly what he wants; along the way realizing something quite important: he really ought to be careful about what he wishes for.
1. Chances

**Chapter 1: Chances**

Neal Nolan had never intended for the day's events to unfold as they did.

It began when he ran into his best friend, Lara Gold, on his morning run. She had always been somewhat of an early riser, and that particular morning, she seemed to be going somewhere with great determination. Her soft brown curls had been pulled back into a ponytail, and she had traded her usual dress for a pair of shorts and t-shirt.

If he had been more attentive, he would have realized that the length and purpose of her stride meant she was on some sort of a mission, but Neal wasn't that attentive, especially not after running for four miles.

He jogged towards her, calling out her name twice before she noticed. When she did, she smiled slightly, waving. "Where're you going?" He asked, falling in step with her. Lara was slightly under a year younger than he was; she would be turning sixteen in a couple of weeks. Her father had already planned quite the surprise party for her, though Neal wasn't allowed to breathe a word of it if he wished to live.

"The library," she replied hastily, and he grinned at how typical it was. Along with her delicate stature, bright blue eyes, and much of the rest of her physical appearance, she had inherited her mother's love for books, something which both Mr. and Mrs. Gold couldn't have been more proud of.

Of course, if they knew what their daughter now wanted to read, they would have realized quite how dangerous this love was.

"I've got a favor I need to ask of you, actually." He flashed her a quick smile, and she raised an eyebrow, not missing a beat.

"And what's that?"

Neal paused for a second. He had asked this favor from Lara so many times it almost felt meaningless, but yet, he knew for his sake he might as well ask it again. "Could you let me into the back of your father's shop?"

She stopped for a second, and he stopped as well, not breaking eye contact. Then she laughed it off, waving her hand with dismissal, before continuing on her journey. "Absolutely not. Neal, you know it's off-limits."

He sighed; he should have expected that response. "What does your dad even keep in there anyways?"

Lara shrugged. "I don't know. If I'll do so kindly as to remind you, it's off-limits."

"You're almost sixteen." Neal said, choosing his next words carefully and speaking with as much purpose as he could muster. He had been curious about what Mr. Gold kept in the back of his shop for as long as he could remember; it was something that sparked the boyish mischief that seemed to only become more prominent as he got older. "Are you really going to continue to let your parents decide what you do?"

Lara pursed her lips, shaking her head as she slowed down again. "It's not like I am." She frowned. "Papa wants the best for me. There's probably a perfectly good reason I'm- we're- not allowed there."

"And that reason would be…?" Neal asked. He was teasing her now, and he knew she knew it.

"I don't know!" She laughed lightly, though there was a slight worry in her eye that made Neal aware to the fact that he had succeeded.

"Because you haven't been there." He stopped, standing triumphant. Lara looked at him for a second, deviated, if only briefly, from her original plan.

"Fine," she shrugged, reasoning with herself that it couldn't be that bad. Besides, between the two of them, they would be able to look after themselves, if something bad did happen. "But only to shut you up." Neal bounced in his spot with glee as Lara turned around, and the two of them began their way to Gold's Pawnshop, both unaware of the implications of what she had just agreed to.

* * *

Belle only really went to the Town Meetings because she knew Rumple hated them as much as she did, and she didn't want him to have to endure them without somebody. By now, she had mastered the art of looking like she was attentive while being half-asleep, something that had gotten her into quite a bit of good-natured trouble before.

Currently Snow White was discussing the renovations by the woods. As Belle watched her, she was struck again by how slowly they had managed to age. Rumple had told her this was a side-effect of the Fourth Curse, and frankly, it frazzled her how her daughter was getting older at a perfectly normal rate for a teenager while she still looked and felt young as ever. Not, of course, that she was complaining.

The meeting couldn't have been dismissed fast enough, something Rumple didn't fail to whisper to her as they made their way out. Belle giggled almost silently, waving goodbye to Hook, who had previously spoken on littering by the docks.

When she looked at her husband, however, there seemed to be some sort of shadow cast over his eyes. "Oh, Rumple," Belle leaned gently against his arm. "You shouldn't worry that much about Lara. She'll be fine."

"Who said I was worrying about our daughter?" He asked, trying his best to sound surprised.

Belle, to her credit, merely smiled. "I happen to know you quite well, after all these years," she teased him. "I mean it. She'll be fine. We've managed all these years just nicely, and I doubt her sixteenth birthday will do much to change any of that."

"No," he agreed. "I'm probably just paranoid." He didn't need to mention his countless enemies- those in Storybrooke and those outside it- nor the fact that he had bargained his child's life away seventeen years ago.

"You're definitely just paranoid." Belle replied sweetly, pointing as they approached Granny's. "Now, a more pressing matter at hand," she began.

"Yes," Rumple cut her off quickly, making her laugh. Despite their differences, food was something they both agreed on and unconditionally loved. Along with their daughter, of course.

They entered the diner, ordering their usual brunch, and sat across from each other- just the two of them- completely oblivious and unassuming, which was unusual for this particular couple in this particular context.

* * *

It wasn't difficult for Lara to enter her father's Pawnshop. He kept a key underneath the smallest garden gnome, and it was protected only by blood magic. She unlocked the shop and entered, only to notice Neal staring at his reflection in the window.

No doubt he was admiring his dark hair or fair features, which he inherited from his mother; or perhaps his intelligent blue eyes, courtesy of his father. Unknown to Lara, he had once been told by a certain girl in a certain situation that he had the cheekbones of an aristocrat and a jawline she could have cut herself on, and even more unknown to her, he happened to think of the almost effortless way she had told it to him every time he saw his own reflection.

Neal knew he didn't feel strongly for this girl, however, except for perhaps in the context everybody felt strongly about her. Fear.

"Hey, anytime you want to look at my father's secrets instead of your face," Lara called out sarcastically, and he stepped in with a sheepish grin.

Somehow, the interior was even more impressive now that it was being looked at in secret. Every trinket seemed to glow brighter; every crack in the mirrors appeared sharper. Suddenly he felt extremely powerful, a feeling that was exhilarating and completely new around anything that had to do with Rumplestiltskin.

"Neal?" Lara's voice broke him out of his trance, and he looked up.

"This is remarkable," he whispered breathily.

"Wait until you see the back," she whispered back, keeping her voice low despite the fact that there was nobody else there.

He followed her as they tip-toed towards the back of the shop, though when they stopped, he could see worry lacing her emotions. "Don't worry," his voice sounded reassuring. "We won't get in trouble."

"Please don't touch anything," she sounded hasty, and just as hastily, he promised her he wouldn't. Then, he noticed something behind her, and his face broke out into a grin.

"What is that?" It appeared to be a sword of some sort, but every inch of it was made with diamonds. Lara turned around, and gasped inaudibly. Neal took a step forward, hovering over it, but not quite touching it.

"Neal, we shouldn't be here…" Lara's voice of reason seemed to be coming back, and Neal knew if he wanted more time in there he would have to find a way to convince her to let him have it.

"Oh come on," he grinned. "We're fine. If anything here could have hurt us, it would have by now."

She crossed her arms, and said with a very slight smile, "The things I do for you are unbelievable."

"But you still do them," he reminded her with a fleeting wink. Neal stepped behind her, carefully opening the cabinet on the bottom. He didn't see what he was looking for, but what he did see delighted him.

They were rows of potions, in clear glass vials of every shape and size imaginable. Some of the potions looked quite regular; others were vibrant shades of cerulean, taupe, burgundy. "Now, was this such a bad idea?" His voice was husky as his eyes skimmed the different vials.

Neal had always had an interest for magic as long as he could remember, but with his parents being who they were, he had never been allowed to be anywhere near it. They were afraid it would corrupt him, but as he knelt on the ground, hovering over the potions- the possibilities- he couldn't help but feel they were quite wrong.

"Neal!" Lara whispered. He looked up, smirking at how nervous she was getting. Of course, she had nothing to worry about: he had told himself repeatedly that he would take full blame if they did get into trouble. And after the looks her father gave him, something told Neal their parents would have no trouble believing him.

"Are you worried?" He asked. For a second, he forgot that they were surrounded by some of the most secretive works of one of the most dangerous men to exist, and instead focused on Lara's concerned hazel doe eyes.

She glared at him, though he could tell she was aware he was teasing her. "What if I did this?" Faster than she could comprehend, he reached for a bottle- a random bottle- and closed the cabinet, holding it above his head.

Her eyes widened, remaining focused on the bottle, rather than her best friend in front of her. The liquid it contained was a hazy mixture of purple and blue, catching and reflecting the fragments of light to look like a galaxy of stars in a vial.

He stood up, holding it above his head. "If you'd like for me to put it back, you'd better get it yourself." He lowered his eyelids, sticking out his chin.

"We're not children anymore," Lara hissed, fully aware of how dangerous a situation she was in. "You could get us killed."

"Then I'll guess you'll have to save us." If he was under any better judgement, Neal would have put back the vial and done as Lara insisted they do; he would have left the pawnshop and its mysterious objects alone, but Neal had been quite blinded by his curiosity and he hadn't got any better judgement.

Lara lunged for the vial, but instead crashed into Neal. What happened next happened almost as if in slow motion.

The vial slipped from his hand as he exclaimed in surprise, and as it approached the floor, it shattered. Lara screamed and held on to Neal, feeling suddenly quite thankful for the fact that he was holding onto her like a lifeline. A purpley-blue fog began to envelop them, and the last thing either of them remembered before they lost all sensation was the impression of falling and the impending feeling of danger they should have gotten long before.

* * *

 **A/N: H** **oped you enjoyed reading! It seemed like Chapter 1 was pretty long, but nevertheless, Chapter 2 will be up soon, and it'll probably be a little shorter. It would be wonderful if you could review/rate, and as always, suggestions and requests are always welcome. :)**


	2. The Enchanted Forest

**Chapter 2: The Enchanted Forest**

Neal became aware of the dull pain coursing through his body before he opened his eyes. He lay on what felt very much like the ground, regretting everything he had done, and hoping that its results wouldn't be devastating.

When he opened his eyes, however, his heart sank.

He was no longer wearing the shorts and shirt he had been in Storybrooke; instead, he was in an off-white billowy top, which had high collars and was cinched-in at the wrists, along with trousers. Over that was armor, an accessory he had worn exactly twice in his life, both times ironically. There was, to his dismay, no sword in the bejeweled sheath, nor a dagger or any other means of protection.

What's more, he was surrounded by thick evergreen trees all around him. He forced himself to get up, trying to ignore the pitfall feeling that had begun to take place in his stomach. _They were in the Enchanted Forest_.

Lara, in front of him, was beginning to wake up as well. She was in a simple, cream-colored dress, with a similar ribbon holding her hair back, and a robin's egg-blue cloak that seemed all too familiar.

She sat up, looking around wildly, before her eyes fixed onto Neal's. "What have you done?" Her voice was barely a whisper, but he could physically feel the horror and worry in it.

"I- I don't know," he replied miserably, not sure what he could say to make it alright. Lara broke eye contact from him, shakily standing up, hugging the cloak tighter around her torso. "I'm sorry." It sounded lame, even as he said it, but he didn't know what else to say.

"I shouldn't have let you in, in the first place," she muttered to herself, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

"Don't blame yourself," he said hastily, taking a step closer to her. She looked up at him, and even though it was fairly dark on the forest floor where they stood, he could see something flash in her eyes.

"I don't, Neal." She replied softly. She then turned around and began to walk away, pausing for a second: "I blame you." Perhaps if she had been angry and yelled at him, or even punched him- goodness knows he did deserve it- Neal would have felt alright with himself.

But as he watched her walk away, uncertainty lacing her every step, his shoulders slumped. He knew he had done much worse than anger her: he had let her down. And perhaps more importantly, he had put both their lives in tremendous danger.

Something which, at that moment, became acutely aware to him. "Lara!" He took off in the direction where she had begun walking, unable to see her due to the fog. As he had expected, there was no response.

"It's dangerous!" He called out again, but was quickly shut up when he felt something on his back. Something cold, sharp, and pointy, to be precise.

"If you value your life, you would turn around slowly with your hands in the air." A haughty male voice instructed. Instantly Neal knew he disliked him, but he knew that whoever it was behind him had a sword and he didn't, so at the moment, all he could do was comply, and hope he wouldn't die quite like this.

* * *

"Don't be worried." Snow walked leaned over the counter at where her husband was cooking lunch for the two of them. She sounded, however, like she was trying to convince herself just as much.

"I don't know, it's just not like him to leave without a word." David frowned, grating cheese over their pasta. "When he comes back, he's going to get it."

Snow laughed, getting off the barstool to get glasses. "But hey, on the bright side, Town Meeting went well." She stopped for a second on her way back to the table to give David a fleeting kiss on the cheek.

She had barely set the glasses on the table when the door burst open, a very angry looking Rumplestiltskin and worried Belle coming inside. "Where the hell is my daughter?" Gold looked murderous.

Snow exchanged a glance with David before clearing her throat and making it clear she had not seen Lara since last night. "How do you expect us to know?" She added, being sure to omit the fact that their own son had gone missing as well.

"Aren't she and Neal close?" Belle was trying to sound as passive as she could, but anybody could hear the worry in her voice. It was as evident as the fury in her husband's eyes.

"I'm sorry, but we haven't seen them," Snow said again. She and David exchanged another look.

"In fact, Neal's been out of the picture all morning too." She internally flinched that he had to say that, but when she saw Gold's expression soften- if only just a little bit- she was thankful.

"Why don't- why don't we try a locator spell?" Belle, always the voice of reason, gripped onto her husband's arm. "I'm sure we're just parents being parents. They're probably just fine."

"I hope you're right." Gold crossed his arms, his eyes stormy. His intuition had never been wrong, and now, he couldn't shake off the hunch that something very _not_ fine was happening to his daughter.

* * *

"Neal?" Despite himself, Neal felt more relieved when he heard Lara's voice. It didn't seem like too far away, and though he could tell she hadn't forgiven him, at least she sounded worried.

The boy in front of him raised his eyebrows to that, but didn't withdraw his sword. Neal squinted, trying to survey him in the diminishing light. He seemed slightly taller than he was, but had more of a slender build. By the way he was holding the sword, however, Neal could tell he was a swordsman. Even in the semi-darkness, he seemed incredibly handsome, with sharp, rosy cheekbones, a plunging yet masculine jawline, and bright, expressive eyes. His hair was the color of caramel, and his clothes; bright red. Everything about him reeked of royalty, and it made Neal's stomach churn.

"Neal!" Lara brought his focus back, and, turning abruptly, he saw her standing by the thicket. The boy's attention was diverted to her too, and Neal could see his expression soften. In that moment, he felt extremely protective of her, because he had seen that look enough times before to know no good came of it.

"Who are you?" The boy asked, finally putting his sword back into its sheath. Lara walked forward so she was standing closer to both of them.

"I'm Lara," she said cautiously, "and this is Neal."

" _Prince_ Neal." He added quickly, making the boy raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, is that so?"

Neal nodded, trying to appear more confident than he felt. "My mother is Snow White and my father; Prince Charming." For a second, he saw a foreign emotion flicker on the boy's face, before it quickly went back to his regal expression.

"I'm Prince Phillip," he said. He looked about the same age as Neal, but the formal way in which he spoke and held himself indicated he had been brought up much differently. "Are you from around here?" Though he meant to ask the both of them, he was looking only at Lara, as if omitting Neal completely from their conversation.

He couldn't help but feel snubbed again, and as he heard her explain how exactly they had gotten there, he realized something: _people like Prince Phillip enjoyed snubbing others_. They had been with this boy for about three minutes, but to Neal, that was already more than enough time.

And so he wasn't too delighted when he proposed to take the two of them to his mother. "My mother- Queen Aurora, that is- speaks fondly of her adventures with Snow White. I'm sure it'll be her pleasure to see to it that you are comfortable during your time in our Kingdom." He didn't sound sincere, and when Neal caught Lara's eye, he could tell she knew it, too.

"That would be lovely," she smiled nevertheless, and began walking alongside him towards his castle, leaving Neal to walk behind them. It was a simple, subtle act out of anger, and as much as he would have liked to deny it, he wasn't too fond of the fact that she would rather walk with that royal prick than with him.

 _Then again_ , he reasoned as they approached the clearing, _he deserved that_.

"This is my home," Phillip stopped ahead, gesturing dramatically to the magnificent castle gleaming in the distance out of the fog. It turned out being quite deceptive, though, because they arrived at the castle gates in hardly any time.

Neal stared in pure awe as Phillip relayed their story to the guards, who then went inside to fetch somebody of higher authority. The castle was clearly tastefully built; made of dark grey stone and taller than the eye could see. The windows were lined with gold, and in the highest of the four towers, there was a stained glass panel.

He tried to talk to Lara again, but it remained difficult because her back was to him, and he knew she wasn't going to turn around until she had forgiven him on some level. Again he regretted how childishly he had acted; they would have been having lunch with their parents if only he had listened.

Despite that, however, he couldn't help but feel a pang of something. As the guards opened the gates, and he followed Lara inside, he remembered waking up that morning in his own bed in Storybrooke, wishing, as he did almost every day he woke up, for an adventure of some sort.

And as he walked forward, his shoes making clanging sounds as they came in contact with the marble floors, he couldn't help but revel in the fact that his wish had finally come true.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you're enjoying it so far! Any critique/suggestions/requests are always welcome. Feel free to private message me, and of course, which author doesn't love comments? :) Thanks for reeding, and Chapter 3 should be coming up soon!**


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